


you're all that i need underneath the tree

by Milzilla



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: 12 Days of Malex 2020, 5+1, Alex Manes Loves Michael Guerin, Christmas fic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Malex Secret Santa 2020, Michael Guerin Loves Alex Manes, Nebulous Well-Adjusted Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:56:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27973381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milzilla/pseuds/Milzilla
Summary: it's michael and alex's first christmas together as a couple and michael has some ideas about holiday activities they should try out.five christmas traditions that michael + alex try, and one tradition they start for themselves.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 40
Kudos: 111
Collections: 12 Days Of Malex 2020





	you're all that i need underneath the tree

**Author's Note:**

  * For [manesalex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/manesalex/gifts).



> this is my secret santa gift for the most wonderful molly! she wanted: _I've begun to heal in all the places your hands have been_ and _Michael and Alex's first Christmas together_ and _Christmas tree shopping_ so i got ambitious and tried to combine them all!

i.

Christmas isn’t really Michael’s thing. None of his foster homes were particularly generous when it came to holiday cheer, and although Isobel usually made him come to one of her Christmas lunches every year, beyond that he really had no reason to celebrate the holiday.

“We’re aliens, Is,” he’d say, when she despaired of him. “We’re not even from this planet and you want to hold me to some outdated Christian tradition of-”

“Fine, whatever, Michael,” she’d snap. “Just be there by one o’clock.”

And he was never going to argue with a free lunch (or the opportunity to spend time with Isobel, really), but that was the extent of it.

This year, though. This year was different. This year, he had Alex. Was _with_ Alex.

Sweet, beautiful Alex, who is currently staring at their choices with a delightfully arched eyebrow.

“I don’t know, Michael,” he says. “They’re all trees aren’t they? All of them are going to shed needles onto the carpet. You should just pick one.”

“No, no, no.” Michael shakes his head firmly. “No way. You’re pickin’ out your own tree. Here, look.” He points to one grouping of trees. “The Douglas Fir is classic. It looks good and’ll keep a long while. Or if you want something you can put more ornaments on,” he points at another grouping. “The Fraser’s got real steady branches for lights and tinsel and shit. Or do you want one that smells the best? Or one that’s white? Or-?”

“Michael.” Alex sets a hand on his arm, but he’s smiling when Michael turns to look at him. “The classic one, I think.”

Michael grins back at him. “Alright. Pick one and we’ll get them to cut it down.”

Alex opens his mouth and looks like he might argue for a second, before he closes it and shakes his head fondly. “Okay. I’m picking a tree.”

“Yes you are,” Michael agrees.

Thirty minutes later, when they’ve got the tree bundled up and tied down in the bed of the truck, Michael turns to him and asks if he _really_ likes the tree he picked.

“Michael, the tree is great,” Alex tells him as he opens the door and slides into the cab of the truck. “But if you ask me again, I will let it loose on route 84.”

“Understood,” Michael acknowledges. He pats the tree. “He doesn’t mean it, darlin’. You’re the start of a perfect Christmas.”

ii.

So, the thing is, Michael’s determined to give Alex a perfect first Christmas. A perfect first Christmas for _them_. He knows that Christmas is a thing for other people, and they’re doing so well at the dating thing, at knowing one another and talking instead of fighting or fucking (but still fucking, _obviously_ ) and so this just seems like the thing… to do? He’d asked Isobel about it, hat in hand and head held high, and she’d been surprisingly magnanimous about it. He’d left her place with a list of ideas, traditions that they could approach as a couple, and he’d picked a few off the very long list.

But now, with a cord of lights tangled around his neck and one arm, he’s having second thoughts about decorating.

Alex walks into the living room with a box in his arms and promptly bursts into laughter.

Michael pouts in response. “You’re mocking me?”

Still laughing, Alex places the box down on the couch and steps forward to get a good look at him. “You’re a genius engineer, Guerin,” he points out. “And you can’t handle a few lights?”

“They got the best of me,” Michael grumbles. “I’ll admit.”

“Well, you make an adorable Christmas tree,” Alex tells him, his lips curled into a smirk. “All you need is your hat as the topper and a few ornaments.” He steps forward to put his hands on Michael’s chest, sliding them downwards until he’s gripping Michael’s hips. “Any suggestions on where I should hang them?”

“Mm. Unless you’re talking about yourself,” Michael murmurs. “Which you know I’m always happy to accommodate, I think they should go on that big old naked tree in the corner of the room.”

“Okay. Let’s get you free then.” Alex steps back and starts helping to untangle the lights caught around Michael’s arm.

Once he’s a free man again, he gestures to the box that Alex placed on the couch. “Those your decorations?”

“Such as they are,” Alex confirms, looking apprehensive as Michael stars sifting through the collection. “There’s some tinsel and a few baubles that we used to decorate the base one Christmas, a few things from the DeLucas, some hand-made things from Greg and Clay, and um, just a few other things.”

He spots the gifts from the Deluca women first; probably a mix of home-made and market-bought, all beautiful and unique. The ornaments from Greg are also easily spotted; all Navajo designs, like a cactus painted on a pottery disk, or a bauble painted with a desert sunset and an ink-black horse. He admires them for a moment before he spots what Alex must mean by “a few other things”.

Michael pulls the green, alien head-shaped ornament out of the box and lets it dangle from his fingers. He turns to Alex and raises his eyebrows.

The tips of Alex’s cheeks go pink but he returns the expression without apology. “We live in Roswell. Is it so strange that I have an alien ornament?”

But there’s something in his voice that makes Michael ask: “How long you had this?”

Alex breaks, letting out a laugh of disbelief, and runs a hand over his face. “Okay. I bought it last year.”

Michael’s face splits into a grin. He puts the ornament back into the box and walks over to Alex, who’s still talking.

“Crazy alien things were happening, and I didn’t even set up a Christmas tree, but we live in Roswell and there’s alien ornaments _everywhere_ so I just--”

Michael cups Alex’s beautiful face in his hands and leans in close, sliding his nose along Alex’s cheek before leaning back just enough to catch his gaze, their breaths mingling.

“--I just hung it in the kitchen,” Alex finishes lamely.

“Did it make you think of me?” Michael asks, voice suddenly low and hushed.

Alex shudders - either at the question or the tone it’s asked in. “Every time,” he breathes.

Michael dips his head and kisses him, deep and slow, dragging their mouths across one another to prolong it. He kisses Alex until they’re both clutching at each other, breaking apart with a gasp to press their foreheads together.

"Well," he says, when he can breathe again. "This year he can go on the tree, cause I'm here, baby."

iii.

“Okay,” Alex agrees easily enough. “What are we watching?”

“Uh. Netflix has a few choices,” Michael explains, bringing up the screen on the TV. He types “Christmas” into the search bar and his eyes widen at the number of movies that pop up. “Okay, so they’ve got more than a few. Is this -” he keeps scrolling, eyes widening with each new line that’s revealed. “ _Alien Xmas?_ You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.”

Alex is chuckling fondly at him when he turns away from the TV.

“Have you ever actually watched a Christmas movie?” Alex asks him, gesturing for him to come and sit next to him on the couch. He’s already gotten comfortable and settled in for the night; prosthetic off, PT done and their bellies full of dinner. Michael’s got caramel popcorn ready on the coffee table and mugs full of a hot chocolate mix that’s to die for. Everything’s ready - except for a damn movie.

“Is made me watch Rudolph’s Shiny New Year with her last year,” he replies.

“Which you loved, obviously,” Alex teases.

Michael tips his head back in mock-despair. “They bond over being _outcasts_ , Alex. He saves the day by talking about how the other reindeer bullied him.”

Alex laughs and reaches out to grab his hand, pulling him down onto the couch. “Well, if _that_ made you emotional, I’ve got just the movie for you. We’ll start with a classic.”

He takes the remote and clicks through until he finds what he’s looking for.

“Oh. The Muppets?” Michael asks, turning to look at Alex as the opening credits begin. “Isn’t this a kids movie?”

Alex raises one perfect, judgemental eyebrow.

“Okay. Got it.” Michael puts his hands up in defence and turns back to the TV. “Watching the movie now.”

An hour and twenty minutes later, as Michael Caine and Tiny Tim the frog say “god bless us everyone” and the whole town begins to sing about the love they’ve found, Michael’s curled up to Alex’s side with his head on Alex’s shoulder. Alex leans over and presses a kiss to the top of his head, gently playing with the curls at the back of his neck. He generously doesn’t mention the tears streaming down Michael’s cheeks.

iv.

“Nope. Absolutely not.”

“Alex.” Michael implores him with his eyebrows and a pouty lip. He implores hard.

There’s a slight waver in Alex’s expression before it hardens again. “No. You know I’m not a baker. Let me make dinner instead.”

“Alex,” Michael says again, this time reaching out to cup Alex’s shoulders, then slide his hands down until he’s holding Alex’s hands. “ _Baby_.” He grins at the shiver that his boyfriend tries to suppress, the way he closes his eyes and releases a deep breath. “It’ll be fun. I promise.”

Alex breathes through another few moments before nodding his head. “You’re playing dirty and you know it,” he sighs. “Fine. But if this all goes wrong and we end up redecorating the kitchen with flour; I want you to remember this moment.”

“Uh huh.” Michael smacks a wet kiss on his cheek and then drags him over to the kitchen counter where he’s set up all the ingredients and a few mixing bowls. “It’s just sugar cookies. And I’ll be here the whole time. Don’t be afraid.”

Alex glares at him as he steps up to the counter. “I’m not afraid of them.”

“Good.” Michael nods and then sets to work gently guiding them through the instructions. He looks over several times to find Alex studiously applying all the steps and carefully measuring out the ingredients, a look of utmost concentration on his face.

When the time comes to roll out the dough, they clear the bench and Michael hands Alex the rolling pin, gesturing for him to get to work.

“You just want to watch my biceps work,” he mutters, but he starts rolling the dough out immediately.

“Mm. You caught me,” Michael murmurs in response, stepping up behind him. He leans down and presses a kiss to Alex’s bicep, then to his neck, and then to his cheek. Alex turns his head to try and catch his mouth but Michael leans away, making a tutting noise.

“Tease,” Alex accuses with no real heat.

Michael doesn’t step away though, continuing to press up against Alex’s back as they cut the dough into shapes with the cheap Christmas cookie cutters Michael bought. Alex spends the whole time pressing back just a little, and Michael spends the whole time breathing softly on Alex’s neck, which results in a few cookie mishaps that have to be rerolled and reshaped.

Once they’ve got them onto some trays and into the oven, Michael spins around and pins Alex to the counter, where they proceed to make out for fifteen minutes while their creations cook.

He has his hands down the back of Alex’s jeans when the timer goes off, and Alex pulls away from sucking a bruise just above his collarbone where his shirt has fallen off his shoulder.

“The cookies,” he gasps, one hand gripping Michael’s curls tight.

“Ugh why couldn’t they take five more minutes?” Michael groans, detaching himself from his boyfriend and going to take the cookies out of the oven.

“Oh. They look good,” Alex notes, hooking his chin over Michael’s shoulder as he scoops them gently onto the cooling trays.

“We’re halfway there,” Michael tells him, depositing the tray in the sink.

“ _Livingonaprayer_ ,” Alex mumbles under his breath, inspecting one of the better looking cookies.

Michael beams at him, even though Alex can’t see him do it, and rejoices for a second that he’s in love with such a nerd.

“Let’s let ‘em cool while we make the frosting,” he says, gently shepherding Alex over to the clean portion of the bench. He makes Alex mix the frosting, though he guides him in a very Patrick Swayze-like manner, so he’s not sure that it counts, but it feels damn sexy so he’s giving himself points for it anyway.

They decorate the cookies with the frosting and some non-Christmas sprinkles, since those were the only ones he could find, but he thinks they make a pretty picture anyway. Soon enough, they have little green Christmas trees and red reindeer and blue baubles, all covered in rainbow sprinkles.

“They look amazing,” Alex says, with no small amount of wonder.

“Course they do,” Michael says, smacking a kiss to his cheek. “You wanna lick the frosting bowl? Wait -” he says, just as Alex goes to grab the bowl in question. “I want a little first.” He drags his finger around the top of the bowl, gathering up a significant amount of green frosting, before offering Alex the bowl.

“Hm.” Alex considers this, then places the bowl on the counter and grabs Michael’s hand. He pulls it towards his mouth, slow enough for Michael to realise what’s about to happen, before he closes his lips around Michael’s finger.

At first it’s just his tongue lapping at tip, cleaning a little of the frosting off, and Michael’s heart rate spikes. Then he curls his tongue around the finger once, dragging it up the underside to take the majority of the frosting, and Michael goes half-hard in an instant. Then Alex looks at him from underneath his eyelashes, hollows his cheeks, sucks hard on Michael’s finger, and Michael stops breathing.

Alex pulls off with an audible, obscene pop and then has the audacity to lick his lips.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Michael says, with feeling.

“Mm. We could do that,” Alex agrees. “Not on the clean sheets though. We’re _covered_ in flour.”

That is objectively true and it makes Michael laugh. He reaches forward to pull Alex in by the hips, pressing them together and further spreading the flour across their clothes. “How about a post-cookie shower?” He noses across Alex’s cheek. “We deserve it.”

“Yeah,” Alex breathes, before catching his mouth for one, two, three kisses. “We do.”

Michael licks at a stray bit of frosting on Alex’s cheek, grinning at the responding shudder. “See, baby? I said it’d be fun.”

v.

It’s the simplest of traditions and Michael can’t believe he’s completely forgotten about it until now. He makes it home just in time to set up before Alex gets there; he’s just setting up the last sprig above the front door when Alex rolls up. He leans against the door and watches Alex walk up, already more at ease just from seeing him come home.

“This is unexpected,” his boyfriend says, but he’s smiling just as wide as Michael is. “What is it today?”

Michael feigns innocence, and confusion. “What do you mean?”

Alex rolls his eyes fondly. “Which Christmas activity are we embracing this evening?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Michael says.

“You have that look on your face,” Alex tells him. “And each time you’ve had that look, we’ve done some Christmas thing. The tree, the movies, the _cookies_.” He raises one eyebrow purposefully.

Michael grins. “The cookies were memorable, weren’t they?”

“I’ll definitely never look at frosting the same way ever again,” Alex agrees as he makes it to the front door. “So?”

Michael allows himself to look a little sheepish at being caught, then tilts his chin upwards to indicate above them.

Alex laughs when he sees the mistletoe. “I can get behind this tradition.” He leans forward to press a kiss to Michael’s mouth, lingering for a moment, before moving past him and into the house.

“You have no idea,” Michael murmurs, turning and following him in.

He waits patiently while Alex gets changed in the bedroom. Then, when he sees the door open, he meets Alex in the space just outside the bedroom door and stops him.

Michael swoops in to kiss him before he can ask any questions, drawing it out a little longer than the one at the front door. When he pulls back, Alex gives him a puzzled look. He points upwards, and they both look up to see the mistletoe hanging above them.

“Oh, I see.” Alex’s expression melts into one of exasperation and fondness, which is how Michael knows this is a winner and not a stinker. “Do I have to keep an eye out on the rest of the doorways tonight?”

Michael shrugs. “That depends on whether this is a surprise you want to avoid.”

Alex cups Michael’s jaw and pulls him in for another series of kisses, coaxing him gently until they both break away with a sigh.

“No, I like it,” he says. “But make sure you don’t sneak up on me, yeah?”

“Of course,” Michael assures him seriously. He was always sure to make enough noise around the house so that Alex knew where he was. “It’s really only a few, I swear.”

“Then it sounds like a nice surprise.”

After the fifth mistletoe kiss, which involves Michael just pulling a sprig of mistletoe out of his pocket and holding it over their heads, Alex drags him to bed with the clear intention of keeping him too busy to mess around with it anymore. It’s only then that he sees the mistletoe Michael has taped to the ceiling above the bed.

vi.

Christmas Eve is a bad night for Alex.

They stayed late at Isobel’s, surrounded by their friends with good food and drink and general merriment. It was a great night but the combination of drink and a break in routine can often lead to consequences for Alex, especially when it comes to his leg. And although there never needs to be a triggering event for Alex to have nightmares, Michael has the feeling that Christmas itself might be bringing things up for his boyfriend. It’s just small things, things that no one else might notice, like a short dip in mood or spacing out a little, and he’s worried that he’s exacerbated the problem in some way with all his Christmas activities.

So, on Christmas morning, he lets Alex sleep in and slips out to the kitchen to make breakfast waffles. He carries the breakfast in his hands and the present with his mind, arranging them next to the bed before gently waking Alex up.

He wipes at his face, smiling softly when he sees Michael, making Michael’s heart expand infinitely.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, tilting his head up in a silent request, which Michael is powerless to refuse, leaning down to meet him in a kiss.

“Good morning,” Michael says. “I have waffles. And we’re going to eat them on this bed.”

Alex’s eyes light up. “You’re my favourite alien.”

“Too right,” Michael snorts. He waits for Alex to pull back the blankets, settle back in his sweats, then Michael hands over the plate, along with a glass of juice and his meds, and they tuck into their breakfast.

When the food is gone and Michael’s licked the plates to get at all the syrup, he floats Alex’s present up from its hiding place on the ground. “Gotcha something.”

Alex eyes him suspiciously as he unwraps the small package. “We said no big presents.”

“It’s not big, promise.”

His face splits into a grin when he sees the glittery guitar Christmas ornament.

“So the alien won’t be lonely on the tree,” Michael explains with a devilish grin. Alex laughs and leans over to kiss him, their smiles bumping against one another.

“To be honest,” he says, when they pull apart. “I thought you might have something - elaborate planned. That seems to have been a pattern the past few weeks. I thought you might be leading up to something.”

Michael dips his head. “Ah, that. Was it - too much? All the Christmas stuff?”

“Um, no. But Michael -” he starts, using that tone he gets when he’s been thinking about something for a little while and has only half-planned what he wants to say when the subject comes up. Michael grimaces and braces for whatever impact is coming.

“You know we don’t need all of that, right?” Alex asks. “Not that it isn’t nice, but it doesn’t have to be us if we don’t want it to be.”

Oh. That’s not as bad as he’s been expecting. Michael shakes his head ruefully. “I just got it in my head that it had to be perfect, y’know? Gotta go the whole nine yards.”

“I love you.” Alex says. “All that matters to me is that you’re here.”

“I love you too,” Michael responds, voice cracking in the middle. They’ve been saying it for months now but it still feels as important every time. “I was worried that I’d set something off. Brought up some crap for you.”

“Oh, Michael.” Alex reaches out to place his hand over Michael’s. “No. You’ve been… amazing. Everything has been amazing. I’m so used to not spending time with the people I love around this time,” his hand tightens around Michael’s. “I should have warned you that I can get lost in my head around Christmas. It was never - great, in the Manes household. After mom left, it was really just a chance for my father to torture us. And as my brother’s left the house, he had less of us to torture. He’d get drunk and -” he cuts himself off, looking down at this lap.

Michael flips his hand over so that he can hold Alex’s hand and opens his mouth. “Christmas doesn’t exactly hold any cherished memories for me either. I didn’t even really understand what it was until Max and Isobel would tell me about all the presents they got and the big dinners they had. Then, when I was old enough to do anything about it myself, it just felt like it didn’t belong to me, you know?” He sucks in a breath and blinks his eyes rapidly, refusing to cry. “Until I thought about doing it with you. I wanted to do all those crazy things; the tree and the decorating and everything.” He wipes at his face. “Can’t change the past, can’t heal the hurt you and me have had, but we can do something about right now. About the future.”

Alex watches him for a few moments, his eyes a little glassy as well, before he beckons Michael closer.

“You know, things are better than they used to be,” Alex says. He places his hands over Michael’s on his thighs. “I’ve started healing here.” He pushes on Michael’s hands once for emphasis, then drags both their hands to his chest, over his heart. “And here.” He holds one of Michael’s hands and brings it to rest on the side of his neck, where Michael usually cups his neck as they kiss. “And here.” He places Michael’s hand on his head, Michael’s fingers instinctively digging into his hair and scratching lightly at his scalp. “And here.” Alex leans forward to press their mouths together, smiling. “And here,” he whispers.

Michael grabs Alex’s hand with his free one and brings them both to his chest, at the same time using the hand on Alex’s head to bring their foreheads together.

“Me too,” he murmurs.

They sit there for a little while, just breathing together and collecting themselves. Eventually, Alex pulls back enough to look at Michael’s face.

“I have an idea for a Christmas tradition of our own,” he says.

Michael nods. “I’m all ears.”

Alex smirks and grabs the front of Michael’s soft white shirt, bunching it up in his fist and then dragging him forward as he leans back against the pillows.

“Oh, I see,” Michael grins slyly, leaning on his elbows to keep himself above Alex. “And how will this be different to any other morning?”

“Hm.” Alex considers this as he wraps his legs around Michael’s waist and his arms around Michael’s neck. “We’ll be full of holiday cheer?”

“Someone’s gonna be full of something,” Michael leers, causing Alex to burst into laughter, which is promptly silenced by Michael’s mouth.

Alex pulls him back with a hand in his curls, and there’s a softness to his face that Michael imagines is mirrored by his own.

“Merry Christmas, Michael.”

“Merry Christmas, Alex.”


End file.
